Cold
by Bleed on the Sixth
Summary: Zoey is working with one of the hottest sophomores at PCA, Ryan Sharpe, on a World History project. But when he ditches her for some girls, does she have any choice but to quit? Who can help her now? And why is everything she is writing coming true? R&R!
1. Sideways Elvis

_Summary: Zoey is working with one of the hottest sophomores at PCA, Ryan Sharpe, on a World History project. But when he ditches her for parties, does she have any choice but to quit the team? Will she have to work with the most unexpected person just to get a passing grade? And why is everything she is supposed to be writing coming true?_

**Cold**

**Sideways Elvis**

The alarm radio read exactly 6:59. Within seconds it was going to beep into a new hour, but the three girls kept on sleeping, trying to ignore vivid dreams of Quinn's slick green-and-yellow tube. Zoey rolled over and her hand flopped the bedside table which held the alarm clock. 7:00. Some country song by George Strait blared on the radio and startled Zoey awake. She hoisted herself up on her elbows and looked around.

"Quinn!" she whisper-shouted. "Lola!" Lola opened an eye.

"Quit it, Zoe. I've decided to become a bear." Zoey looked at her quizzically.

"Huh?" Lola raised her head up and gave Zoey a sleepy look.

"I'm _hibernating_."

Quinn was getting up, untangling the mass amounts of braids that her hair was tressed into.

"Zoey?" she asked. Zoey looked at her oddly, getting out of bed as well.

"What?" she answered warily. If it turned out to be one of the famous and insane Quinnventions, she'd rather not. "You want me to drink hydrochloric acid mixed with a concentrated form of phosphorus sulphate?" Zoey tugged on a pair of shorts. "Or something like that?" Quinn looked at her.

"No, though that sounds interesting. Two things. One, you have a cat on your head and it's not a tidy one. Two, your clock is an hour late."

"WHAT?" Zoey shrieked as she rushed around the room trying to get ready. Lola jumped out of her bunk and started to try on outfits as Zoey shoved on a shoe and brushed her hair.

"But don't we have our Jet X's?" Lola screamed.

"Yeah, if our Jet X's will get us to class in _five minutes_!" shouted Zoey.

Within three minutes the girls surged outside and scrambled onto their Jet X's, honking fervently as they passed the boys' dorm. Racing, they reached their classroom barely two minutes after the bell had rung. Mrs. Dawson, their World History professor, (**bAuthor's Note: Sorry, I don't know the teachers' names, so I'll just go with whatever pops in my head/b)** frowned severely at them and pointed sternly with a pen at their seats. Lola and Zoey, subdued, slunk in between Michael and Logan while Quinn took a seat next to Chase, whose hair had oddly flattened to the side during the night and gave him a sort of half-afro. Zoey giggled quietly. It looked like a sideways Elvis 'do.

"Now," started Mrs. Dawson. For some reason, she always seemed to start her speeches with 'now'. It was an odd habit of hers, not unlike her obsession with rubbing her chin with her knuckles. Zoey and Lola shared a glance. "We've just finished our unit on World War II, trust me, there is no more--" The class erupted in cheers.

"--to read." Zoey gaped at her. "However, we will be finishing this month with a project!" Mrs. Dawson's ruddy cheeks rose up to fold under her eyes—which, in some respect, was her way of smiling.

"What's the project?" asked Chase, shrugging.

"_Hand_, Mr. Matthews. Now, the project is that you must mimic a couple going through World War II, writing about your experiences."

"Couple?" Lola scoffed. "As in, husband and wife?"

"Couple as in husband and wife, Ms. Martinez, or brother and sister, mother and son, father and daughter, cousin and cousin, niece and uncle, great aunt and great-nephew, grandfather and--"

"Okay, we get it," Zoey muttered. Mrs. Dawson looked severely at her.

"If you consider this matter trifling, Ms. Brooks, I suppose I could always give you an failing grade." Zoey snapped her mouth shut and shook her head fervently.

"Good. I'm glad that is settled." Logan raised his hand.

"Can we choose our partners?" he asked.

"Yes. However, all of them must be boy-girl." There were a few giggles as the class tittered and the all the girls looked shyly at some of the boys, wondering who would be chosen, picked, elected.

Lola turned to Chase.

"Wanna work together?" she asked him. Zoey's eyes went wide.

'Lola!' she mouthed, half-smiling, half-disappointed. Lola shrugged and winked at her. Zoey smiled. Looking around, she quickly turned to Ryan, a good-looking boy behind her. Ryan was the exact image of the 'darkly handsome and mysterious'.

"Hey, Ryan. Be my partner?" she asked nervously. Ryan shrugged and nodded.

"'Kay, sure. Whatever."

Mrs. Dawson wrote the pairs on the board. "Is this final, everyone?" A ripple of assent was murmured by the class as they all looked at the board.

**J.T. Summers and Tammie Griffin**

**Chase Matthews and Lola Martinez**

**Amy Lunde and Everett Le Roi**

**Zoey Brooks and Ryan Sharpe**

**Quinn Pensky and Michael Barret**

**Melody Rinks and Cedric Stauffeneger**

Zoey turned to Logan. "Logan, you don't have a partner. However could that be?" Logan gave her a sour look and raised his hand.

"Mrs. Dawson, I know World History is fascinating for geeks, but handsome young men like me need their beauty sleep. I was snoozing, and now I am partner-less." Mrs. Dawson pursed her lips, a motion that further accentuated her chicken-like look.

"And _what_ exactly do you expect me to do about it, Mr. Reese?"

"Pair me up with somebody. Hot." Logan leaned in. "Am I asking for too much?" Mrs. Dawson's cheeks once again went up to kiss her eyes.

"No, not at all. Melissa," she called. "Are you partner-less?" Melissa, who had the most unfortunate habit of talking with a lisp, answered her.

"Yeth, Mrs. Dawthon." Mrs. Dawson thanked her.

"Perfect."

**Logan Reese and Melissa McBrail**

The bell rang, and the students walked out of the building. Zoey was talking to Ryan.

"So, I think if we get in some work this week we won't be as stressed when the final due date comes." Ryan looked at her.

"Zoey, I really gotta focus on basketball practice. You know there's that big game coming up, the one against  
St. Lawrence's. Plus, there are some hot girls on campus tonight. Know what I mean? Like Caylie." He flashed a grin in the direction of a slender, somewhat leggy girl with long, smooth and silky golden hair. The perfect bimbo. Caylie spotted him and waved back. "You got me?" Zoey looked down at her feet halfheartedly.

"All right, I guess." Ryan clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks, Zoe. You're the best." He shouldered his backpack over one arm and headed over towards his jock buddies. She watched him go, having a feeling of disappointment, sadness, and resentment roil in her stomach.

"Yeah, right."

"Ooh, you want some aloe vera for that _burn_?" Logan snickered as he sidled along. Zoey gave him a sour look and smacked him with her _America: The Story of Our Nation_ textbook.

"You just love to hear yourself talk, don't you?"

"Hey!" Logan rubbed the red mark where she had slapped him. "Zoey, eh-ve-ry-boh-dy knows you're lusting after that boy, and all he sees is some—admittedly hot—nymphet who's making googly eyes at—" Zoey, who had until that point been walking away from him, turned around and lifted her eyebrows. **(Author's Note: Yes, all, eyebrow_s_. As in plural. I get kind of annoyed by the fact that all the characters somehow magically all have the power to lift only one of their eyebrows.) **

"What? Making googly eyes at who?" Logan looked at her questioningly.

"Me, who do you think? Poor Zoey." He shouldered his way past her and swaggered over to Michael. Zoey chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought of a good comeback.

"Who writes your lines, Logan?" she called, making her voice harsh and cold. He turned around and gave her a confused look.

"What?" Zoey smirked.

"Well, I mean, there's no human way you could possibly be coming up with all these sentences yourself. We all know how challenged you are. Even reading Dr. Seuss is too much for your brain." She smiled at him patronizingly. "But don't worry, you'll get up to Junie B. Jones someday."

Zoey caught up to Lola. "What'd I miss, you lovebird?" she teased. Lola blushed and looked elsewhere.

"Nothing, really, Zoey. We kinda decided we'd be cousins," Lola stated, as they walked towards the cafeteria to grab a snack. Zoey grabbed Lola's arm and pulled her into the fresh fruits section.

"Do I have to _tie_ you two together?" she mock-hissed. Lola made a face and grabbed a tangerine. The girls paid at the counter and joined the gang.

"I've been thinking about dying my hair turquoise again," Lola said as she began to peel her tangerine. "I liked it." Michael shook his head.

"No. Uh-uh. Never. Too many memories of 'Steve'." He made sure to put air quotes around 'Steve'. Quinn looked at him pensively.

"You are a most peculiar specimen of homo sapiens," she pondered. Michael's face went pale.

"Quinn, I know what you're thinking, and I would really love to, but I gotta...that thing...with the...Coming!" he stammered as he scampered away.

"Reaction number one!" Quinn clapped her hands together happily. "I love it." Zoey and Chase shared a look.

"Um...Quinn? Exactly what were you testing?" Quinn looked at her as though it were obvious.

"I gave him a pill with a powdered form of sodium carbonate on it and soaked it in a diluted form of fluorine. It's supposed to make him hyper-aware of girls. I told him it was for his cough. Any other volunteers?"

"Hyper-aware of girls?" Zoey asked.

"Hey, look, she's catching on!" Logan exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Bravo!"

"Logan, shut up." Lola threw her tangerine at his head, hitting his forehead and leaving a squelchy, dripping mark.

"Score!" Lola and Zoey slapped hands, which caused Zoey to look at her watch.

"Lolo, we gotta be in class in ten minutes. Bye guys!" They ran to find their Jet X's and hopped on.

After a grueling day of tedious classes, which was a grand usual at PCA, Zoey entered the girl's lounge, where Lola, Quinn, Michael, and Chase were sitting around, watching a documentary on the blue whale's anatomy.

"Have any of you seen Ryan?" Zoey asked, plopping herself down next to Chase.

"Nope," answered Michael, his eyes riveted on the screen. Evidently his hyper-awareness of girls had settled down.

"Hey, Zoey, did you know that a blue whale's heart is as big as a small family car?" Lola divulged. She too was mesmerized by the fluke of the whale.

"Whoa," Zoey replied. "Let's stop this crazy whirligig of fun. I'm dizzy." She rose and turned off the television.

"Okay. Now I'm going to speak very clearly and enunciate. Hah-ve-eh eh-ny oh-ve you seen-eh Ry-ah-ne?"

Chase jabbed his finger towards the door.

"He's over there, Zoe." She turned to see Ryan chatting with Caylie and another beauty.

"Oh, great," groaned Zoey, sitting down again. "I had to choose the player. I don't think it could have been worse if Logan was my partner." Lola patted her arm.

"Now, now. Let's not exaggerate." Ryan turned and saw Zoey. He muttered a quick 'be right back' to Caylie and the other girl and walked over to her.

"Hey, Zoey, about that World History project?" Zoey turned to look at him.

"Yeah?"

"Well...uh, you get started. Stick both our names on it, but, uh, don't make it look too good." Zoey continued to stare at him.

"What?" she asked, shocked. Ryan leaned down and patted her shoulder.

"Knew you would understand. Bye, Zoey." He jerked back up and trotted back to the two girls who were waiting at the door.

"What just happened?" Zoey asked. "What just happened?"

"It's okay, sweetie. No need to say it twice. He just said, as plain as day, to do the work for him," Lola informed her. Zoey turned to look at Ryan's retreating back.

"Hey, Zoey, you really might want to close your mouth. I hear leaving it open is a good way to let the flies in." Chase smiled at her to let her know that he was joking.

"Ah, don't worry about it, Chase. They'll feel right at home in there." A collective groan was issued from the girls. Logan, the Great Logan Reese, had arrived.

**End of Chapter One**

**Please review! Criticism is fine, but flames are just wrong, they're the trademark of a jealous person (I've had my flame moments as well). Thanks a bundle!**

**-Quip**


	2. Mutant Fat Ass Mammoth Face

_Summary: Zoey is working with one of the hottest sophomores at PCA, Ryan Sharpe, on a World History project. But when he ditches her for parties, does she have any choice but to quit the team? Will she have to work with the most unexpected person just to get a passing grade? And why is everything she is supposed to be writing coming true?_

Disclaimer: I do not own Zoey 101 or any of the original characters. Caylie, Ryan, Mrs. Dawson and some other students are my own creation, as is the plot.

**Cold**

**Mutant Fat-Ass Mammoth-Face**

_Zoey's Point of View_

"I love you too, Logan," I snap as I close my mouth. The jerk smirks and sits down next to Michael.

"She admits it!" he exclaims. "Ready for a kiss?" He purses his lips. Idiot. I plaster on a sweet smile.

"Oh, no, sweetie. That's called _sarcasm_. It's a little technique us humans use when we are irritated." I pat him on the arm, a little too hard. "Ir-ri-ta-ted. That means when we're really quite pissed off." His eyes narrow as he leans forwards.

"I know what it means, Zoey!" I act all offended, grabbing my throat with my hands and pretending to faint.

"Great God! The mutant fat-ass mammoth-face has slashed me with his comeback! Whatever shall I do? Oh, help, please, help!" By now the gang is literally rolling on the floor laughing and Logan is humiliated. Good. I can't stand to have him prancing around like a wolf in sheep's clothing, flashing his pretty smile to all the girls he meets.

"Sorry, man," Michael says between gasps. "She got you good there." Logan scowls and stalks off, no doubt to preen in front of his wall-sized mirror. What a peacock that boy is. I'd bet even money that his motto is "If you've got it, flaunt it." He probably doesn't understand that it's for girls. Can't quite blame him. The academic department really isn't his forte.

"So what are you going to do, Zoe?" Chase asks, getting up from leaning against the sofa's legs. Do? I turn around, puzzled.

"Do? What are you talking about?" Chase looks at me as though it's obvious.

"About Ryan? Him not doing the work? You know, the whole World History project?" I lean back into the couch's pillows.

"Oh, that. I really don't know. I guess I'll go talk to Mrs. Dawson first thing tomorrow and tell her I want to switch partners. Ask her if there's anyone free." Closing my eyes, I lean into Lola. "But that will be tomorrow."

I wake up—miracle of miracles!—early enough to catch a quick shower before having to head to class and breakfast. World History was my first class—again. Joy. I slip out of the shower and change quickly, running so that I can be at the classroom before class starts—so I can talk to Mrs. Dawson about changing partners.

Just my luck. _He_ has to be there. _He_ has to be leaning over Mrs. Dawson's desk and _he_ has to be shaking his head. _His_ golden-brown curls have to be bouncing, and _he_ has to be flashing a smirk. Right. Jolly good.

I march up to Mrs. Dawson and firmly slam my hand on her desk.

"Mrs. Dawson," I say, plastering on a smile. I don't care if I've interrupted the Great Logan Reese. I'm talking. Me. "After some thought, I've been wondering if it is possible for me to change partners. I don't think that Ryan and I are cut out to be partners." Mrs. Dawson slowly turns to face me.

"You've come right on the dot, Ms. Brooks," she says. Oh, God. This is not good. "It just so happens that Mr. Reese is not satisfied with Ms. McBrail either. The two of you can work together." Before either Logan or I can get out a strangled squeak, her chubby cheeks rise up again. "Perfect. I'll inform Mr. Sharpe and Ms. McBrail that they are working together. Have fun." She turns her back to us and starts erasing the chalkboard (which is pointless since it was already clean).

This.

Is.

Not.

Happening.


	3. Whack A Logan

_Summary: Zoey is working with one of the hottest sophomores at PCA, Ryan Sharpe, on a World History project. But when he ditches her for parties, does she have any choice but to quit the team? Will she have to work with the most unexpected person just to get a passing grade? And why is everything she is supposed to be writing coming true?_

Disclaimer: I do not own Zoey 101 or any of the original characters. Caylie, Ryan, Mrs. Dawson and some other students are my own creation, as is the plot.

**Cold**

**Whack-a-Logan**

"Life officially has a grudge against me," Zoey announced at lunch. She looked sadly at her oozing moussaka, picking at it halfheartedly with a white plastic fork.

"How?" Chase asked. "I mean, yeah, sure, Ryan, not the best partner you could have. But you'll get through it." Zoey glanced at him and shook her head.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked, sliding in next to Quinn. He had just arrived from French class and was carrying a lunch tray loaded with macaroni, soda, and fries. "_Ryan_ _n'est plus ton partenaire_?" Lola shoved Michael and snatched two of his fries.

"Cut the quack, Michael. Speak in English." Quinn leaned in.

"He asked if Ryan wasn't your partner anymore." Zoey looked up.

"Oh."

"Well...?" Lola prompted. "Don't leave me on tenterhooks here, babe. Who's the new guy?" Zoey slammed her head on the table, narrowly missing her moussaka.

"Logan." Lola's eyes widened.

"Ohh...well, at least you'll have a chance to spar as much as you like. We all know you enjoy that." Zoey glared at her and quickly brightened her scowl to a fake, plasticized smile as Logan approached.

"So, Thomas Edison, huh, Quinn? Yeah, he was the guy who invented the lightbulb, am I right?" Quinn looked confused for a second, but she caught on as Logan approached.

"Yeah. I'm using some of his theories to create a new, energy-saving lightbulb that's supposed to glow in the dark. It absorbs all the sunlight that streams in during the day and when it's night...reflects it. Cool, huh?"

"Sounds like geek talk to me," Logan said, announcing his arrival. Zoey quickly snatched her lunch and stood up. "No, no, no. You don't have to stand up to pay homage to me, my lovely wife. Sit back down." Zoey glared at him and tossed her now-cold lunch away.

"No can do, Logan. And I was thinking more of a psychopath-jail guard kind of deal. Me being the jail guard, obviously. Or maybe a monster from outer space and a normal girl. Think about it. Wouldn't be _too_ far-fetched. Actually sounds pretty realistic to me. Catch you later, guys." Logan smirked.

"She so wants me." Chase and Michael shared a look. _Riiiight._

Zoey knocked on Chase's door. He opened it, his fluffy black hair obstructing any view she might have of within the room.

"Hey, Chase. I was wondering if Logan was here. I really don't want to fail this assignment, so I was kinda hoping we could work tonight. He in there?" Chase bit his lip and shook his head.

"Sorry, Zoe. Think he said he'd be out shooting baskets tonight. You can check the courts." Zoey nodded her thanks and left.

She saw Logan shooting baskets up ahead, missing every time.

"I thought Quinn helped you with your free throws, Logan." Logan gave her a sour look and shook his head.

"Yeah, she did. But now it's not working again."

"Oh." Zoey stood a minute before talking again. "About that project—I know we're not the best of friends, but I really don't want to fail. So I'm kinda offering a deal. You stop being an self-centered, conceited ass to me and my friends, and I won't diss you twenty-four seven. That all right with you?"

"Who said you diss me twenty-four seven?" Logan asked, outraged. Zoey looked at him, as if to say _You know what I'm talking about._ Shamed, Logan hung his head. "It's more like twenty-_two_ seven." Zoey stayed a minute, playing with her hands, occasionally making the Awkward Turtle sign, having one hand over another and moving the thumbs into little circles.

"So...do we have a deal?" she asked. Logan raised his head, twirling the basketball in his hands.

"Shake on it." Before she could extend her hand, Logan pulled back. "One more thing, you don't diss me all the time, and also please lay off the Whack-a-Logan game you like to play." Zoey smiled good-naturedly.

"Consider it done."


End file.
